


Complicate You

by gentlesin



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlesin/pseuds/gentlesin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Natasha brings a new toy into the bedroom, she makes sure it's worth Tony's while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complicate You

"Wait, wait, wait, wait."

Natasha pulled back, taking a breath to gather her patience as Tony craned his head around to look at her. "What it is?"

"'What is it?!'" he repeated, brows furrowed at her. "You've got a dick you're trying to shove up my ass. _That's_ 'what is it!'"

Sitting back on her heels, Natasha settled her hands on her thighs, restraining the urge to smirk at the silicone phallus strapped to her pelvic bone.

"We can wait if you're not ready, Tony."

He huffed. "It's not that, I just--"

"You liked my fingers, did you not?" she asked, raising her brows.

His jaw worked, glottal stop pulling his voice up short. "Fuck... Yes, but this is different."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know that."

Coming up onto her knees, Natasha put on a hand on his hip to direct his movement as she said, "lay back."

"What?"

"Lay down," she repeated. "On your back."

His eyes searched hers, question before he moved. She waited, letting him situating himself before she grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed.

"Up," she said, motioning a hand for him to raise his hips before she slid the pillow underneath the small of his back. "There. Now you can see me."

"I don't know how that's going to help," he argued, but his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

She smiled down at him, crawling forward until her thighs settled under his and brought up a hand to brace behind his knee as she positioned herself. Settled, she leaned forward to take his hand in her free one, and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, eyes open, waiting.

He watched her, his eyes darting, but his nod came without hesitation. "Yes."

"Then just try and relax," she said, squeezing his fingers as she pressed forward. His leg jerked and she moved back, easing off before she pressed again. Gentle, keeping her movements slow and non-threatening, she let him adjust to the feel of it against him.

He uncoiled in stages, breath regulating first, hands releasing second, core letting go last. When he started to squirm against her movements, body silently asking for more, she smiled, squeezed his hand to signal him, and _pressed_.

His jaw dropped, lips stretching wide as he buried is head in the pillow. Releasing his hand, she moved hers into the space between them, fingertips teasing as she watched his erection grow.

"Not so bad, huh?" she asked, her voice a purr as she looked at down at him.

The gaze he flicked back at her was nearly a glare, but she grasped him in her hand as her hips slid forward, and the moan that tore itself from the back of his throat cut off any caustic remark he might have been planning.

"Fuck, 'Tasha," he said, head rolling back, neck arched.

She pressed further. "I haven't even got an angle yet, Stark," she said, biting her lower lip as she adjusted her position. "Wait until I find--" His moan was loud and it made her body hum with triumph. "There we go."

"You're an evil woman."

"And you love every minute of it."

Reaching an arm up, he groaned into one of the pillows.

"Are you in any pain?" The weight of his erection bobbed between their bodies in answer.

"No," he said, pulling the pillow away and shaking his head. "Just feels... Tight."

She smirked at him. "Good."

She ramped up her slow strokes to a consistent, flowing pace as she worked him. She had no intentions of him finishing before he was completely unraveled, and if the flush in his cheeks was any indication, she wouldn't have to work too hard.

Fisting his hands in the sheets, he began to rock back against her, teeth bared as he grit against the new rush of sensation. Natasha's response was only to move her hips, adding a hook and adjusting until she got another caterwaul.

"Jesus. Fuck, Natasha."

"I knew you would like it,” she said, thrusting in time with her breaths.

"You look _hot_."

Dropping her gaze, she watched her breasts bouncing as she moved and smirked up at him through a curtain of curls.

"Yeah?" She squeezed her thighs to help quell the surge of heat between them. "Do you like being fucked by one of the most dangerous women in the world, Stark?"

His answer was somewhere between a groan and a cry, but it quirked her lips as she moved faster, harder, punishing and worshipping him in the same breath. His shoulders came off the bed, neck arching into a series of tendons drawn out like piano strings, waiting for her to flick just the right one and make him sing.

Sweat began to bead at her temples, sticking wisps of curls to her face. Letting go of his leg to push her hair back, she brought his legs together, up, holding his ankles with one hand as she used the other behind herself for support.

Every new noise she drew from Tony's throat was a victory song, a ballad she committed to memory under slick skin and hot, working muscles. His hands jittered, moving from the sheets to his face to the pillows, and she knew it wouldn't take long, knew every stroke was hitting exactly where he wanted it most.

"Touch yourself," she ordered, voice heavy and dark as she bit out the words.

He did so and she split his legs again, hands under his knees once more so she could watch him, but she didn't relent, didn't give him a moment to get the pleasure under control as she watched him work his erection with practiced, needy strokes.

"I'm--" He cut off, and she could watch him climbing, core rolling, hips jutting back against her. "I'm not going to las-- Fuck."

"So don't," she said on a breath, gasping. "Come for me, Tony."

Tightening her grip, she ignored the burn in her thighs, her hips, and _moved_ , fucking him in earnest as she brought him higher. His hand became frantic, uncoordinated, and she pushed it out of the way, taking him in her own and squeezing, tugging in the way he knew he liked with a hint of a twist just as she reached the tip.

He threw his head back and she bit her lip, eyelids heavy as she took in his release. His muscles strained, jerked, and relaxed in progressive succession against her, but she didn't slow until his eyes were scrunched, mouth agape, and only then did she bring him down at length, carrying out his pleasure until he began to meld into the bed.

Pulling herself from him with a resulting moan, she smiled, reached for the hand towel on the nightstand as she released his legs, and took care to clean him up before she unstrapped herself. His breaths were heavy and ragged as he worked to catch them, a hand flung over his eyes as if to hide himself.

With care, she climbed over his limbs, placing kisses on his hips, his abdomen, working between the muscles under her lips settled just under the metal of the arc reactor. His hand came down then, eyes guarded as he watched her with flushed, spent cheeks.

"Natasha...."

Moving slowly, she placed her lips to the front plate. It was warm, far warmer than she had expected, whirring under her and bright in her eyes, but she held his, smiling with them as she released and continued her crawl up his body.

He took her chin before she had a chance to settle at his side, kissing her with a depth that measured itself in a race to her toes and a swell in her heart that seemed to move to her throat, stealing her breath.

"What was that?" she asked.

He gave a half-hearted shrug, his smile loose and wide. He rolled onto his side, facing her with slumped shoulders and a boneless flop of his arm across her waist. She watched him, his eyes blinking slowly, yet his gaze more open than she'd seen in months. It was the look of a man worn out, happy and sated, and when his lips fell open, drawing a breath to speak, she pressed a finger to his mouth quieting him.

"I lo--"

"Don't say it," she said, her heart racing as she traced his lip. "You can show me." Settling herself into his side with her head on his shoulder, her fingers traced the outline of metal on his chest. "You've got about ten minutes to recover before I seat myself on your face."


End file.
